


A Tale Of Two Friends

by AussieOutlander



Category: Outlander, Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Jamie and Geillis, Jamie loves Claire, Smitten Jamie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28668363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AussieOutlander/pseuds/AussieOutlander
Summary: Jamie and Claire have been best friends since childhood.But over the past year, something had changed.Claire has been dating Frank for almost nine months, when Jamie begins seeing a mutual friend, Geillis.She knows she should be happy for him, finally having fun and finding romance with a nice girl like Geillis,but she isn’t, she hates it, and shes not sure why...or is she?
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Frank Randall, Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Geillis Duncan/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 132
Kudos: 208





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> Welcome to my newest story. I love it, and hope you do too.  
> I plan round 8 chapters and will hopefully post fortnightly.  
> Let me know if you like it. Thank you.

* * *

* * *

This is a tale of two friends, me, Miss Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, and Jamie, full name: James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. 

We have been friends since elementary school. Best friends. My parents had moved to Inverness when I was 7 after my father accepted a position as curator at the Inverness Museum. Scotland was strange and a lot less like England than I had expected. Everything was different. We shared a common language of course, but it was almost impossible to understand people speaking at anything other than a slower than normal pace, the food was weird, and the people were friendly, but wary of a family of educated Sassenach types. 

Walking into school on my first day - full of excitement and bundles of nerves with my Union Jack lunch box - was a massive mistake, one that placed a target on my back immediately, and the then gangly, flame-haired Jamie was the only kid in class to not make fun of it and my ‘posh’ English accent. He was the first one to ask me to sit and eat lunch with him, and was very kind and sweet while attempting to teach me the strange and confusing Gaelic curse words I so often heard bandied around the playground. We quickly became inseparable. He was not only my best friend, but my protector and confidant. 

Jamie’s friendship saw me through the death of my parents, just six months after we met, and adapting to living with my Uncle Lamb, whom I grew to absolutely adore, but barely knew when guardianship of me was suddenly thrust upon him. He was a wonderful man. Uncle Lamb gave up a lot to care for me; abandoning his beloved globetrotting archaeology adventures to take over my father’s role at the museum. It was a perfect solution; it kept my uncle in his chosen field and allowed me to retain some kind of normalcy, plus I could then stay with my cherished Jamie.

Throughout our childhood and adolescence, we had mended each other's bikes, nursed each other's wounds, and trusted only each other with our deepest, darkest secrets. He even helped me get over the multitude of broken hearts I found myself facing all too frequently throughout high school, all while seeming completely disinterested in finding love for himself.

Together, we had made it through the perils of the sand pits, the ups and downs of high school and now, we were navigating the adult world of university side by side.

But over the past year - our second year of university and living independently in Glasgow - me, in an on-campus dorm, and Jamie, off-campus with our friend, John, something had changed. 

I had been dating Frank, a history major a few years ahead of us for almost nine months, when Jamie began seeing a mutual friend, Geillis. And when I say seeing, I mean fucking. 

I had barely seen them speak a word to each other, but had unfortunately witnessed their hot and heavy antics at every party and get together we’d attended this past month. I didn’t know why, but it bothered me immensely. I should be happy for him, finally having fun and finding romance with a nice girl like Geillis, but I wasn’t, I hated it. 

Every time I saw them together, I felt sick to my very core, and had an overwhelming and sudden urge to slap the perfect smile right from her pretty doll-like face and drag Jamie away by the ear.

I saw them together again last night, in the kitchen at a party; kissing, moaning, their hands wandering all over each other. It was disgusting. Jamie spotted me watching, and dared to smile at me before returning to eating her face and disappearing with her into the pantry. 

Thirty minutes later, they reappeared, full sex hair on display, sitting on opposite sides of the room and appeared completely oblivious to each other's existence for the rest of the night.

As I lay in bed the next morning, going over the inappropriateness of their PDA with Frank, I decided to talk to Geillis about it; I just wanted to make sure her intentions towards my best friend were honourable. Of course Frank thought I was overreacting, that there was nothing wrong with a young couple kissing at a party, but he didn’t know Jamie as I did. He couldn’t possibly understand. 

Despite Frank's insistence that I drop it, I called Geillis as soon as he got in the shower and we arranged to meet for lunch that day. The moment we sat down and had finished ordering our pizza and fries, I began quizzing her, trying to figure out exactly what it was between them. 

I convinced myself that the nagging curiosity and perhaps slight preoccupation was all for Jamie's sake. I was merely looking out for my best friends interests. But Geillis had come to play hardball, and expertly dodged and weaved her way through and past every question I threw at her. 

“Fine, don’t tell me anything about your hot little romance,” I snapped, pretending to be offended by her concealment, but truly just being annoyed by her lack of openness and pig-headed refusal to give me what I wanted.

As we halved the one remaining slice of pizza, I feared time had run out. After all my efforts, I was going to leave none the wiser. But my stubbornness, endless harassment and drilling paid off; as she swallowed her last mouthful, she spilled. 

Patting her face with her napkin, she smiled, then took a mouthful of her soda; her bright green eyes never veering from mine over the top of the cup. 

“Jamie and I…” She stopped and took another deliberately, painfully slow mouthful before finally putting me out of my misery. 

“It’s not a romance, we were just mucking around, ‘twas nothing,” she sighed, shrugging her shoulders and flipping her hair.

My heart skipped a beat or two, jumping on her choice of words, particularly the past tense phrasing. I went in for the kill.

“Oh, so you’re not in love with him then?” I asked, popping a fry into my mouth, attempting and failing nonchalance.

“In love…? With Jamie?” she scoffed, apparently finding it a ridiculous proposal. 

“Och no. I called him last night after the party and we agreed to end it.” She dropped her cup and leaned in across the table. “It’s a real shame too. He is so hot, Claire, the most amazing kisser. And those big hands of his, well, ye wouldna believe what he…”

“I don’t need to know, thank you,” I interrupted, maturely blocking my ears with my hands and shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Geillis just laughed and again, disturbingly bore her eyes into mine.

“In truth, he’s completely smitten with someone else, so there is no point in pursuing anything. We’ll keep it as friends.”

She watched my reaction, smirking, as an unabashed, broad grin broke out on my face and a deep sense of relief washed over me. 

“Oh, sorry, that's a shame,” I lied. “I don’t know why it bothered me so much anyway,” I added, trying desperately to hide my still widening smile.

“Do ye no’, Claire? Really?” she giggled. “Ye honestly have no idea why it would bother _ye,_ tae see Jamie with someone else?” She laughed heartily and leaned on my shoulder as she stood. 

“Maybe ye should ponder over that a wee bit longer,” she winked and walked away, continuing to laugh as she looked back towards me.

“Meet us at the lake later. Oh, and bring Frank,” she smirked as she headed to the door. “That should be interesting.” 

Part of me understood exactly what she meant, but I pushed the acknowledgement away, fearing what it could mean, and choosing to remain blissfully ignorant to the fact that I, myself, was in love with James Fraser.


	2. Chapter 2

### 

* * *

* * *

**2016**

It was my final year of senior school, and Hamish McTavish was my boyfriend.

I thought he was so cool, a real bad boy. He swore at the teachers, smoked, never did any of his work and got sent to detention daily. He was the complete opposite to me, completely wrong for me and therefore, I found him to be completely irresistible.

At the time, my innocent concept of boyfriend meant we held hands at school, kissed in every dark, sometimes creepy, hidden spot we could find, and danced together three times at our school dance before he ditched me, and spent the rest of the night sucking face with Laoghaire McKenzie.

Jamie and I had both known Hamish for years, by reputation only, but of course, my interest in him was slightly different than Jamie’s. There were not a lot of cute, bad boys in Inverness, so I had had my eye on him for sometime before our first formal meeting.

Jamie hated him of course, and for good reason. Hamish, you see, was an asshole. But he was my asshole, and for some reason, it was very important for me to have a boyfriend at the time.

Jamie had traveled to France as an exchange student a month before Hamish and I started dating, and had spent the last few weeks, talking incessantly about some random French girl he had made friends with at his new but temporary school. Her name was Annalise, and you’d have thought she’d invented the wheel the way Jamie spoke about her on each of our daily phone calls.

He described her as tall, blonde and ‘verra’ pretty. She sounded horrible and terribly dull to me; each time he spoke of her, I felt like a pin was sticking in and out of my right eye at rapid speed.

So while Jamie was busy chasing around blondes in France, I was asked to tutor a student by our math teacher, Mr. Mackenzie, a tall, bald, creepy man who insisted on speaking too close to all his female students. To this day, I was unsure how he had managed to retain his job around teenage girls for as long as he did.

I had initially refused, but as soon as I found out the student in need of my help was Hamish, I was all in. By the time we finished our second tutor session, Hamish had convinced me it was easier and more fun to let me do his work for him in my own time, and to instead, use our tutor time to make out. It was an arrangement I later regretted, but succumbed to as he was in the process of giving me my first ever love bite.

A week or so later, Jamie was filling me in about his day trip to Euro Disney with Annalise and her equally dull-sounding family, and I was more than pleased to be able to tell him all about my ‘adventures’ with Hamish, and level the playing field a little.

“Have ye completely lost yer mind?” was Jamie’s enraged response.

He was horrified to hear I was dating Hamish, and with each subsequent phone call, and every sordid detail I exposed, he became even more so.

By the end of the first torrid month I had spent with Hamish, I had begun to smoke, my innocence was hanging by a thread, and Jamie was beside himself. He’d even gone as far as to call Uncle Lamb to try and convince him just how unsuitable Hamish was for his young niece.

“He rides a motorcycle, Quentin,” I had heard him say on one such phone call. “Do ye really want yer bonny wee niece, riding around town on the back of some... hoodlums motorcycle? What about her reputation?”

What Jamie failed to recognise was, the more that he and Uncle Lamb warned and protested about the unsuitability of my beau, the more attractive he became.

“I dinna understand what ye see in him, Claire,” Jamie said, almost two months before he was due to come home. “He doesna treat ye nice, he doesna take ye out, he almost seems tae be embarrassed of ye at school. What is so great about this lad?”

“He's a great kisser for one,” I answered with a giggle. “He does this thing with his tongue…”

“LA LA LA LAA,” Jamie sang down the phone to block my words, and it made me laugh so hard; he could have simply held the phone from his ear, but that would not be adorable, so of course, it wasn’t his natural reaction.

“Please, stop! I dinna need tae hear anything about that guy’s tongue, or what he can do with it,” he pleaded. “Just promise me, Claire, ye willna...I mean, don’t...ye ken...don’t give him, anything,” he mumbled.

“What do you mean?” I knew exactly what he meant. “Don’t give him anything? Money? Cigarettes? What?”

“Aye, ye’re verra funny, lass,” he snapped, not seeming amused at all. “But I mean it, Claire. That boy is not worthy of yer... precious flower,” he said matter of factly.

“MY WHAT?” I’m sure he would have heard me in France without the need for a telephone.

“Did you really just say my ‘precious flower’ to me? Oh, oh, what is this? The 18th century? This is too good. Say it again so I can record it!” I was laughing hysterically, but Jamie remained silent for an agonisingly long time.

“I gotta go, Sassenach. Bye.” He said quietly.

“Jamie! Jamie, wait!”

He ignored my calls for three days. It was the longest we had gone without speaking since our childhood, and it tore me apart.

I had called him obsessively—sent emails, texts, every form of communication was attempted. He ignored every single one of them. So when my phone rang at six AM one sunny Sunday morning, and I saw Jamie’s number on the screen, my heart leapt into my mouth.

“Jamie! I'm so sorry!” I said, launching immediately into a million apologies.

“‘Tis ok, Sassenach. I overreacted. I was going tae call ye straight back the other day, but I was embarrassed. Can ye forgive me?”

“Me? Forgive you? Jamie, there is nothing for you to apologise for. You were just looking out for me. I was being a smartass. Can we just forget it? Please?” I pleaded.

“Aye,” he said, I could hear the smile in his voice and it made my heart clench.

“I miss you, Jamie.”

“I miss ye tae, Claire, and I’m coming home, tomorrow.”

“What? You’re not due back for another two months. What about your studies? Annalise?”

“Sassenach,” he tutted, “there is nothing between Anna and I. I may have been a bit sweet on her, but nothing happened, okay?”

“Okay,” I sighed wearily, feeling oddly relieved and elated. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me tae. I gotta go, they are calling my flight. See ye tomorrow after school. I'll come over if that’s okay?”

“Yes. Tomorrow, bye Jamie.”

Within five minutes, I had decided that Jamie was right. I was done with Hamish and would tell him the next day at school. Before I could change my mind, I sent two messages, the first to Hamish, asking him to meet me in the library in our free period. He replied immediately, saying that he’d love to ‘study’ in the library with me, and that he’d meet me there at two.

The second, was to Jamie: I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Oh, and I’m going to break up with Hamish.

The next day, I avoided Hamish, which wasn’t hard to do. It turns out Jamie was right, Hamish did ignore me at school, and I was annoyed at myself for ignoring the obvious and putting up with it for so long.

I rehearsed the breakup in my mind, deciding that honesty was the best policy, and I walked into the library a woman on a mission, ready to break the poor boy's heart.

I searched the near-empty library, darting in between the clogged shelves and around the piles of books abandoned on almost every table, but couldn’t see him anywhere. I was just about to quit and dump him via text, when I was grabbed from behind and pulled into a janitor's closet. I couldn’t see who was currently squeezing my ass, but instantly recognised the hands and lips currently roaming my body.

“Hamish, stop!” He ignored me and continued to grope at me.

“Hamish, stop, we need to talk.”

His hands ceased their breast bound travel instantly, and he switched on the light.

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asked, almost in disbelief.

“You are…going to break up…with me?” He tossed his head back and began to laugh.

_Son of a bitch._

“Yes, I am.” I snapped, hands on my hips and chin jutting out as it always did when I was really pisssed off. He was going to get it!

“You’re not nice to me, Hamish, and I deserve better. Goodbye.”

_Wow, that'll tell him! Way to go Beauchamp._

I turned away from him and attempted to push open the door, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me close to his face.

“No one breaks up with me…especially not a slut like you!”

At that very moment, the door swung open, and in burst Jamie.

“Piss off, Fraser,” Hamish hissed.

Jamie was having none of it, his jaw jutted out at an angle I've never seen before and a new vein popped to the surface of his forehead. He then kicked Hamish right in the nose, grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the closet.

We ran out of the library, down the crowded corridors through the throngs of slack-jawed teenagers, and kept on running until we made it outside. Both huffing and puffing, we looked at each other, both slightly in shock over what had just happened. I should have been relieved and thankful that Jamie had arrived when he had, but for some reason, I became angry.

“I could have handled that myself,” I said, shaking my hand free of his grip. “I don’t need you to fight all my battles for me!”

“Oh, aye. It didna look like it. It looked like ye were about tae be taken by the worst scum in the school right before my eyes. I told ye he wasna right for ye, Claire. This is why ye have tae listen tae me occasionally.”

“I don’t have to do what you tell me. I’m an adult. Well, almost. and I can and will do what I like!”

I stepped in closer to his body and pushed him in the chest. He tripped on his own foot and fell backwards to the ground.

“Jamie!” I cried, jumping down beside him and laying my head on his chest.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?”

He took a deep breath and chuckled, “aye, I’m just fine, Sassenach. Ye bloody big bully.”

The shock and anger of what had just happened dissolved, and it was quickly replaced by laughter, bubbling to the surface and bursting out from both of us.

“You kicked him in the face!” I screamed, laughing hysterically. “Why did you kick him in the face?”

“I dinna ken,” he said sheepishly. I looked at him, still laughing, and tilted my head, demanding the truth.

“Och, well, I didna want him to hit ye, or me for that matter. I figured it might take him by surprise,” he replied, laughing as heavily as I was.

He wrapped his arms around me and held me close until the laughter fizzled out, with the occasional giggle escaping us.

“Did ye break up with him then?” He asked, a glimmer of cheekiness and maybe hope in his eyes.

“Yes, you were right. He was a real bastard, and, not really that good looking either, or that good of a kisser.”

Jamie's grip on me tightened and I felt happy, content and safe, for the first time since he had left. He breathed deeply and if I didn’t know better, I swear he softly smelt my hair as he inhaled.

“Claire, I—I want to tell ye something, about ye, about us, Annalise, and why I dinna...”

“Ughhhh,” I groaned, cutting him off. “Her again? Do we have to? Can’t we just be us for a while? Best friends, like it used to be, will always be. Just you and me.”

“Aye,” he smiled.

He leaned down, and kissed me on the forehead, something he had done a million times throughout our lives, but this felt different. This kiss lingered that little bit longer, his arms holding me that little bit tighter, and he sighed as he slowly pressed his lips onto my skin.

“Just you and me,” he said softly. “Sounds perfect.”


	3. The Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie was already on the surface waiting for me. Arrogantly standing with hands-on-hips, laughing the same laugh he had always done, but this time it was hypnotizing. How had I never noticed how hot he was?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so in love with this story.
> 
> Thank you for reading the last chapter and your lovely comments.  
> I have been tinkering with this story and have added extra chapters.  
> The current day chapters will be in order, but there will be chapters set in Jamie an Claire's past. These will not be in order.  
> This is a learning curve for me. Hang in there with me, okay?

* * *

* * *

Frank and I sat on the shore of the loch looking on while Jamie, Geillis and our friend and Jamie’s housemate, John, frolicked in the water. My beau had brought a pile of books along with him as per usual, and was lecturing me on the little known history of the Battle of Culloden.

I really did care about Frank, but bloody hell, he could be the oldest twenty-four-year-old in history. I began to wonder if he could be any more boring when he criticised the sugar content of the lollipop I was sucking on, then suggested we ‘stretch out and take a nap’ before heading home for an early dinner. The sun was out, it was a beautiful warm day, the beer was flowing and here we were, watching the “young ones” have fun like a pair of 70-year-old retirees.

Never being one to be able to hide my emotions, my reaction to his suggestion and the apathy I was feeling must have been obvious.

“No, no, of course, we should stay,” he said, putting down his book and pointing towards our friends.

“Why don’t you go and have a splash, have some fun. Unless you’d like me to read to you? I’ve just begun an intriguing chapter on the origins of the Highland charge.”

My lollipop was tossed and my feet hit the water before he’d finished the word ‘charge.’ Jamie was on me in a flash, grabbing me by the arms, lifting me into the air and dunking me under the water. I squealed, desperately grabbed at his hips and dragged him down with me.

As I thrashed around under the water trying to determine which way was up, all I could see was the whites of his teeth, his giant, cheeky smile, then the top of his bare bum, before he disappeared from view.

I burst from the water gasping for air and laughed. Jamie was already on the surface waiting for me. Arrogantly standing with hands-on-hips, laughing the same laugh he had always done, but this time it was hypnotizing. How had I never noticed how hot he was?

I mean, obviously, he was clearly a good-looking guy. But right now, as he stood before me, his shorts hanging low under his hips, exposing his incredible tapered V, it felt like I was seeing him for the first time. My heart rate quadrupled as my eyes scanned over his body. He was truly the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen.

A hand landed on my shoulder snapped me out of my trance and I looked over to my left to see John and Geillis, smiling, and hopelessly trying not to laugh at me.

“Lucky ye’re already in the water. I think ye have a wee bit of drool on yer chin, lass,” Geillis whispered. John burst out laughing and nodded towards Jamie, who was now adjusting and cursing at the drawstring on his shorts after I had accidentally pulled them down in our struggle.

“Pretty impressive sight, hey Beauchamp,” he sighed. “Heterosexuality is such a waste.” He grabbed my still open jaw and shut it, before he and Geillis walked to shore, laughing at my expense the whole way.

Luckily, both Jamie and Frank had not seemed to notice my obvious perving and carried on like normal; Frank still reading and Jamie, splashing at me like a ten-year-old.

We stayed in the water, rejoicing in the rarely seen Scottish summer sun, while Geillis, Frank and John sat on the edge of the loch chatting. It didn't take long before Geillis’s eyes began to roll around like a ball trapped in a pinball machine. I knew that face well—Frank and his history books had struck again. Geillis had apparently had enough, and a short, sharp elbow was delivered to John's ribs; he knew exactly what it meant: we need to leave, now!

I watched on as they huddled together, Geillis leaning away from Frank, whispering, perhaps plotting, before she leaned back and wrapped her arm around Frank's shoulder. I grabbed Jamie’s arm and dragged him closer towards shore, stopping as soon as I could hear their conversation.

“Say, Frank love, would ye mind terribly giving John and I a lift back tae town? We’re done swimming but Jamie and Claire are still in the water. Why don’t you drop us off, then Jamie can take Claire home when they’re finished. I mean done…I mean…” Geillis snorted back a laugh and fell backwards against the sand.

“When they have had enough time in the water,” John inserted.

Luckily Frank didn't pick up on any of Geillis’s blabbering and agreed to give them a lift. He waded out towards me in the loch and I met him halfway. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and asked Jamie to see me home safely.

“Twould be my honor,” Jamie said with a bow. Frank returned the bow with a nod of his head before giving me a strange, almost sad look. He kissed my cheek again, this time, holding his lips still for a moment longer than normal before wading back to land.

“Don’t have too much fun you two!” yelled John, as they headed off towards the car park, with Frank walking slowly, looking back nervously over his shoulder every few steps.

Jamie looked at me and smiled, which I returned while repeating ‘ _ _don’t look at his body, look at his eyes’__ over and over again in my mind.

“Ye okay, Sassenach? Ye’re cold are ye, here, this will warm ye up.” He ran up behind me and locked me in a tight bear hug, laughing and flopping me side to side like a rag doll.

“Jamie!” I laughed, “stop, put me down!” We laughed together, but as the hug continued and the swaying stopped, the laughter did too. It was just a hug now, and I could feel every defined muscle in his chest and abdomen pressing into my bum and up and down the entire length of my back. It felt good and very wrong at the same time.

“I said stop, Jamie. Let me go,” I wriggled around, squirming to break free from his arms.

“Claire, what’s wrong? I was just fooling around, like we always do.”

“Well, it didn’t feel the same,” I said, sulking and stomping through the water and back to safety.

“Come on, Claire, I’m sorry, I dinna mean tae upset ye lass,” he said apologetically, sploshing up behind me. When close enough, he stretched out his long arms and spun me around.

“Well, you did. Now can you please just take me home?”

“Aye, I’ll take ye home, as soon as ye explain to me what the devil’s gotten into ye. Ye’ve been moody as all heck with me lately. Ye shot me dirty looks all night at that party, and Geillis told me you interrogated her this morning over our…”

“Over your what, Jamie?” I cut in, “Over your cavorting around like a fool? Kissing in front of everyone, fucking in pantries and god knows where else.”

I tore his hand from my arm and threw it away. Undeterred, he grabbed me again and pulled me in, right onto his body. My hand landed squarely on his chest and the feel of his soft, ginger tufts underneath my fingers took my breath away. I had to concentrate to stop myself from caressing my hands over him and remember we were in the middle of a fight, and he was just my friend.

“Let me go.”

“No!” he snapped.

“Let me go!” I repeated, yelling right in his face and shaking my arms violently to free them.

“Aye.”

He released me mid-swing and I fell to my side, splashing straight back, face-first into the water. He roared with laughter and it was like waving a red flag in front of a raging bull. I was incensed.

“You god damn bloody bastard,” I screamed.

Shocked by my outburst, he stood motionless, perhaps weighing up his options, before staring me down with one of his trademark cocky half smirks.

“If ye keep carrying on like this, I shall pick ye up, and throw ye over my shoulder. Is that what ye want?” He asked snidely. It was devastatingly hot.

__Yes, yes, it is._ _

“No, it’s not!”

I stretched out my leg and kicked his feet from underneath him, causing him to lose balance completely, and come crashing down into the water opposite me. He continued to laugh, and it infuriated me even more.

I knew I was being ridiculous, acting like a petulant child, and I was embarrassed, which made me more frustrated and even more upset.

I slapped my hands against the water and burst into tears. Jamie, who had continued chuckling away, quickly stopped. His face went white as a ghost and he crawled on his hands and knees towards me.

“Sassenach, please dinna cry. I canna bear it.”

Almost looking frightened of my reaction, he slowly nuzzled into my side and inched his long arms around me. I resisted at first, using my body weight to push against him, but it was useless. I needed him, and the warmth of his body against me in the cold murky water was irresistible; I gave up, and sank into his embrace.

He held me tight for a few blissful moments, whispering Gaelic musings into my ear as he used to do when we were young, when I was hurt or afraid, until he felt my body begin to shiver. Then, he did as he had threatened—in one swift move, he picked me up, encasing me in his arms, and carried me to shore. I lay my head against his broad chest and could hear his heart racing. The medical student in me began to count the strong, steady beats, a __perfect rhythm.__

I was afraid to look at him, but I could feel his stare fixed on me. After a few steps, I worked up the courage to look up and met his eyes. He was looking at me in a way I’d never seen before—his blue eyes had lost their usual bright, shining sparkle, and replaced by a dark, longing stare that burned straight into my soul.

We said nothing as we waded in, or as he lay me down on the grassy knoll beyond the sand. I felt like crying as I slid from his arms, wanting so desperately to stay safe and warm within his embrace that I nearly begged him to hold me again.

Instead, I lay back against the grass, motionless, paralyzed with anticipation, waiting to see what he would do or say next.

Disappointment raced through me when he stood and began to walk away. But he only stepped as far as my bag, before he reached down and grabbed my towel. Within only two of his giant strides, he was beside me again, wrapping the soft cotton towel around me to keep me warm.

I noticed then that my bathing suit had slipped down my arms and I was perilously close to exposing my goosebump covered breasts. I moved to fix them, but he beat me, and his finger gently, tenderly, grazed my skin as he slipped the strap back over my shoulder. __How could a simple touch be so erotic?__

It was like a thousand tiny electric shocks burned into me with every millimeter of exposed skin he touched. His eyes remained glued to his finger as it traced back down the flesh of my quivering arm, wet his lips and looked straight into my eyes.

His fingers remained gracing my skin with their touch while his gaze never wavered from mine. What seemed like an eternity, may only have been seconds, but I had vanished into him, lost all sense of space and time.

“Claire, I—I want tae... I mean, I would verra much like tae kiss ye.”

“Jamie, I…”

He moved closer before I pulled away. I had never wanted anything more, yet been so terrified by anything in my life.

“I… we can’t. You're my best friend, Jamie, I don’t want to lose you.”

“That will never happen, I willna let anything come between us. Claire, you are everything tae me. Don’t ye know that?”

I nodded, knowing his words were true, then shook my head as images of him and Geillis, raced through my mind.

“Jamie, we can’t risk our friendship for another one of your flings. What about you and Geillis? I know you were sleeping with her.” His mouth dropped, as though I had accused him of something immoral or indecent, but he wasn’t angry, he looked embarrassed, ashamed.

“I have not been sleeping with Geillis. We fooled around, sure, but I have not slept with her.” He stopped and blushed. “I've been waiting for y…” He turned, hid his face from mine and began tapping the bottom of his feet the way he always did when he was feeling anxious or uncomfortable.

I placed my hand over his to relax him and stop the tapping, then leaned around him until our faces met.

“Waiting for what?” I asked, hoping desperately I already knew the answer.

“For _ye_ , Claire.”


	4. Heart to Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, I willna ever get over this. I will never get over…” I stopped, somehow fearing my heart would be torn from my chest if I dared to say her name. 
> 
> “Over... Claire?” John asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Welcome to chapter 4. Thank you for the amazing comments on Chapter 3.  
> This chapter takes place around 9 months prior to the day at the lake (Current day for this story.).  
> Remember, we will switch back and forth between current day, and past memories. 
> 
> Enjoy

* * *

* * *

_Around 9 months earlier._

My heart had nearly exploded. I had just come back from Claire’s dorm, after walking in on her and Frank Randall, together, in her bed. I knew she had been on a few dates with him, but hadn’t realised how serious it was.

I’d snuck in to give her a present, a little blue and white vase I’d found that day in town. It was just like all the others she had collected over the years, but they were all back in Inverness. I knew how special they were to her, how much they always made her feel safe, and at home, so I had to get it.

I don’t know if they saw me, and I didn’t hang around to find out. I just gently left the vase by her door and slunk away.

So now, I lay with my face buried into the couch, stifling the tears that refused to cease flooding from my eyes.

I was so lost in my misery, my heartbreak, that I didn't hear the door open or close, the footsteps, or the first thing he said to me. It wasn't until his hand gently tapped my shoulder, that I realised he was here.

“Jamie,”

“John, leave me be. Please.” I groaned, “please just leave me here to die alone.”

A slight chuckle escaped him before he crouched on his knee beside me and lowered his head sideways to see my face. I slid my hand to my cheeks, trying desperately to wipe the tears before I looked up.

“Jamie, you will survive whatever this is. Trust me.”

“No, I willna ever get over this. I will never get over…” I stopped, somehow fearing my heart would be torn from my chest if I dared to say her name.

“Over... Claire?” John asked.

I sat up and clapped my hand over his mouth. “Don’t! Please, don’t.”

Smiling at me like I was a cute baby kitten, John placed his hand over mine and slowly removed it. “Does she know?”

“Does she know what?” I sniffled. “What a complete eejit I am, yeah, I’m pretty sure she knows.”

He pursed his lips to contain his laughs but maintained his sympathetic expression.

“Does she know you're in love with her?” He pushed my legs deeper into the couch and sat beside me.

I looked at John, in genuine shock that anyone had any idea of my true feelings towards Claire. My first thought was to lie and say he was being stupid, but he looked at me with such deep sorrow, such empathy, I chose to trust him and confess it all instead.

“No. You ken, she doesn’t ken. How do you ken? Does everybody ken?” Panic began to sink in as I thought of how stupid I must look to everyone. Following Claire around like a helpless lovesick oaf, while she is dating a mature guy like Frank.

“I’m sorry, but you lost me at the third ‘ken’” John laughed. “Jamie, I can’t tell you if __everybody__ knows, but I’ve gotten to know you quite well this year, and I have never seen a man more in love in my entire life.”

He patted me on the knee, then walked into the kitchen, returning a moment later with two glasses and a bottle of whisky. He poured a glass and offered it to me, but I chose the bottle instead and promptly swigged straight from it.

“Cheers.” John laughed. “You remember my brother, Hal?”

“Aye,” I replied, taking another swig from the bottle. “He’s in the army right?”

“That's him,” nodded John. “Hal is a good brother, in many ways, and I have always looked up to him and turned to him for advice. But he never let me talk about things, you know, certain things in particular.”

John cleared his throat and sipped from his whisky.

“He hated that I was gay when we were kids. Hated it. And when the first boy that ever kissed me, that I ever shared a connection with, loved...” he paused, fighting back tears trying desperately to compose himself so he could continue. “When Hector died, he refused to let me talk about it, or him at all. He wouldn’t acknowledge my feelings. He was embarrassed of his gay brother you see. All he would ever say was, ‘just forget it’, ‘move on’, ‘get over it.’”

I could see the tears forming in John's eyes. It hurts to see my friend in pain—a pain I had no idea he carried with him all along.

“I've come to discover, Hal is generally right. But not always. Talking about Hector, remembering him and sharing my love for him, helped me heal. Pretending something doesn’t exist doesn't help, Jamie. It just forces the pain deeper, and it gets darker and darker ‘til it eats you up.”

He watched as I skulled more whisky from the bottle and shook his head. “And so will this swill.”

He finished his whisky, wiped the tears from his eyes, then grabbed the bottle back from me before I could take another mouthful.

“So, I am here, and I want to hear it all, right from the very beginning. Tell me everything about you and Claire.” He reached out and placed the near-empty bottle and glass on the coffee table. “Spill!” he said.

 _The beginning _.__ I sat up, took a deep breath and smiled as the image of Claire on her first day at our school burst into my mind.

“She was such a cute wee thing, John. I can remember it so clearly. She dinna have her uniform yet, and she strutted into the room in this bright red pinny, with a huge red bow in her hair, and a bloody Union Jack lunch box. The sound of twenty kids' jaws hitting the floor at the same time was deafening.” John and I both laughed, and he nodded and motioned with his hands for me to keep going.

“Well, then she spoke. It was the cutest, most proper, ‘hello’ I had ever heard. I was only six, but I was a goner. The teacher asked her to introduce herself, and I sat watching, listening to every word, mesmerized. I couldn’t wait till playtime so I could sit and talk wit’ her.”

I stood from the couch and went to get myself some water. As I entered the kitchen, I passed my most recent birthday gift from Claire, a photo of us from our first Uni party together. Tears welled my eyes, again.

“What if I’ve lost her John? I dinna think I could cope.”

“Jamie. I am convinced that she is just as in love with you, as you are with her. She just doesn’t know it yet. Now stop your blubbering and tell me the rest of the story.”

He tapped the empty space on the couch beside him. I grabbed my water and sat back down, finishing the glass before I spoke.

I told him all about our first few months together at school. How I had become her defender against bullies, how quickly we bonded and how much she struggled to cope after her parents died.

“That’s what’s most amazing about her, she's such a brave wee thing, John. Imagine being seven, in a new country, new school, then losing yer parents and living with an uncle ye havena seen in years. It all happened within six months. She was just so damn…”

“Lucky, to have you,” he said, finishing my sentence.

Blushing a little, I shook my head. “Nae, I’m the lucky one. She’s always given me more than I could ever give her.”

I smiled to myself, thinking over all the moments we had shared together, and which of the millions, I wanted to share with John. But for each treasured memory held so close to my heart, that I was willing to reveal, there were just as many, maybe more, locked away, tightly guarded, protected deep in my soul.

Tiny moments, like the slightest touches and glances she had bestowed on me over the years. The wee noises she made in her sleep, the snorting laughter, that only I could inspire, the different smile she reserved just for me when I kissed her cheek good morning. All the things that probably meant nothing to her, but everything to me.

These were the memories she didn’t know, no one knew, that I cherished.

“I remember the first time I kissed her,” I said, leaning back into the soft leather couch.

“You’ve kissed her? You never told me that,” said John, looking slightly shocked. “When?”

“I’d just turned seven, and it was the night after her parents died. She'd come tae stay wit’ us till her uncle Lamb arrived, she had no other family here ye ken. Anyway, she was sleeping in my room, and I was talking wit' her, telling her silly stories and such tae help keep her calm. And well, God, this sounds really creepy,” I said cringing a little, “but I kissed her while she was asleep.”

I could see John's face from the corner of my eye, and I wasn’t sure if it was an ‘awww’ face or an ‘ewww’ face.

“She just looked so bonny, and so sad. Deep asleep, but with tears still trickling down her plump wee cheeks. I couldn’t help myself. I leaned down, and ever so lightly, pressed my lips against hers and said ‘Goodnight, Sassenach.’”

I sniffled and wiped away the one, pathetic tear that ran down my cheek.

“Her lips were so soft, and tasted like raspberry lip gloss. I told myself then, they would be the only lips I would ever kiss. And they were, for a verra long time.”

“Who was it?” John quizzed distractedly, like a kitten that spotted something shiny to play with. “The one you kissed? You said you’d had only kissed Claire's lips for a very long time, which means you have kissed someone else. So who?”

I could see the eagerness on his face, and knew his desire for this piece of gossip had almost overtaken the concern he held for me just moments before.

“Her name was Annalise. I met her in France when I was an exchange student. She was the first girl that I’d ever been attracted to apart from Claire. We became good friends and I spent a lot of time with her. One day, they took us to Disneyland in Paris, and while we were riding the wee teacups, Annalise kissed me.”

“Ooh, the teacups, sexy,” John teased sarcastically.

“But it was sexy. I wanted her, John, she was so hot, unbelievably hot, but as we spun around, making out, I just kept thinking of Claire. I had this hot, french girl all over me, and all I wanted, was for it to be Claire, squeezed tightly into that pink cup, kissing me.”

I continued my tale of woe to John. Told him how Claire had begun seeing Hamish, how it nearly killed me every time she talked to me about him and I heard how she was changing for him. How I tried to forget her, to have fun and move on, but failed miserably.

“I had tried so hard to protect her, John, but I couldn’t from France. I got to the point where I had to decide—Anna, or Claire. It took me only a few seconds to sort it all out in my mind, and as soon as I could, I told her I was coming home. She was so excited, even more so when I told her that Annalise was just my friend. Then, something happened that made me more hopeful than I had ever been. About five minutes later, she sent me a text telling me she was going to break up with Hamish. It was the one time I really thought that she might feel the same about me. It let me hope, as I had never let myself before, that we might finally be together.”

I stood and began pacing the room, “On the flight, it suddenly all clicked. She was jealous, she was seeing Hamish, cause she thought I was with Anna. It had to be, as soon as Anna was out of the picture, magically, so was Hamish.”

“Wait... Hamish, Hamish, Oh I remember this!” John said, annoyingly clicking his fingers in my face. “Claire told me about Hamish. He was a pig, and treated her terribly. Oh, and one day he mauled her in the library, and you came bursting in, kicked him and pulled her to safety.”

“Aye, she told ye bout that hey? I dinna ken that.” I proudly puffed my chest a little to think of her sharing that with John, and wondered what had prompted her to bring it up.

“Jamie, you had just rescued her. It would have been a perfect time to tell her!”

“I was going tae, but after I walked in on her and that asshole in the closet...”

“And you kicked him in the face,” John interrupted, giggling.

“Aye,” I laughed, “After I kicked him in the face, I took her outside. Once I knew she was okay and had broken up wit’ the lad, I hugged her, and I tried tae tell her, but she cut me off and made it clear she only wanted friendship—‘Can’t we just be us for a while. Best friends, like it’s always been?’—God, how those words torture me, John.

“I was so close, but how could I after that? I was such a coward. I just closed my eyes, smelling her hair as I kissed her forehead. I lay beside her on the grass like a loser, holding her a moment longer than I had ever dared tae before, fearing my heart would split in two when I let her go.”

“Good god man,” wept John, wiping fresh tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“That is the most tragic, romantic thing I have ever heard.” He stood and retrieved the whisky. “Maybe we do need this after all?”

He poured two large glasses and we downed them, in one gulp.

“Jamie, I’ve got to be honest here, I didn’t expect this. I knew you loved her, but you __really__ are completely in love, aren’t you? You have to tell her!”

“No!” I protested. “No, what I need tae do, is tae face reality. Every time I have been close tae telling her, when I feel we are getting close tae crossing that line, something happens tae pull her further away. She doesna see me like that, she never has. I can hope and pray that one day, those big brown eyes will look at me, the way they do Frank. But in the meantime, all I can do is wait.”

John sat up straight, smiling like a cat that got the cream.

“I know what you need. A distraction. What about Geillis? She told me she’s into you, and she’s cute and a little wild. Ask her out, go and be young, get drunk at some parties, get a little reckless.”

“I could,” I said after a few moments of silent contemplation. “But it wouldna be fair, John. Tae go out with the lass when I’m in love with… well, when I’m not ready tae give myself tae anyone other than Claire.”

“Christ, Jamie, I said to ask her out, not marry her!”

“Aye,” I chuckled, “maybe. Maybe I will ask her out, one day, but I’m not ready yet. I ken what I do need tae do, something stupid and fun, blow off a bit of steam.”

“I have a suggestion,” John smirked, squishing tighter against me on the couch.

“Are you sure, absolutely sure, you're 100 percent straight? I will take five percent, Jamie, I could do a lot with five percent!”

We both laughed, and I appreciated having him here, to talk with, to finally be heard, to ease the burden and break the tension in the only way he knew how—by hitting on me.


End file.
